


Art School Wannabe

by Afghan_arbiter (Dimlitidiot)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Belly Kink, College AU, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, EriSol - Freeform, Feedism, Humanstuck, M/M, Weight Gain
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:47:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28210059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dimlitidiot/pseuds/Afghan_arbiter
Summary: Your name is Eridan Ampora and you're a spoiled art student who happened to get roomed with the famous video game designer Sollux Captor.You think you can play it cool, but Sollux ends up being like a hot tubby chad and you're totally flustered.Eventual belly kink/feedism, don't like don't read.
Relationships: Eridan Ampora/Sollux Captor
Comments: 2
Kudos: 20





	Art School Wannabe

Your name is Eridan Ampora and you are currently dragging two overfilled duffel bags across your art school campus. You are also cursing your idiot roommate for flunking all his classes and dropping out, forcing you to get shoved into a new room with some other person whose roommate apparently proved to be equally incompetent. 

Not that you were incredibly fond of your old roommate. As his actions proved, he was an imbecile. But he didn’t object when you left the light on all night to paint, and he was gone sleeping in his boyfriend’s room most nights anyway. It was a pretty ideal situation you had inadvertently landed yourself in. Now you’re pissed that the next art school nerd you’re going to be rooming with probably isn’t going to afford you the same luxuries. 

Your bags are comically heavy and you’re huffing from exertion before you even hit the halfway point. You’re going to get sweat stains on your button up, and that pisses you off. This whole situation is really chipping away at your cool and composed demeanor. 

After your painstaking trek, you drop your bags in front of your new dorm door. You’ve entered a building occupied almost exclusively by seniors. You tell yourself that you belong here. You’re fucking great and this asshole in your room is extremely lucky to have such a prodigious sophomore living with him. You’ve just got to get in there, lay down the law, and you’ll be living it up again in no time. This guy won’t know what hit him.

You and your cocky attitude open the door, only to find some random ass, curly haired shit on his hands and knees, sucking the cock of none other than Sollux Fucking Captor. You gasp audibly, and the senior suckee looks up. His freakishly bright blue eyes lock right onto your black ones, and your body freezes in that doorway. Your mouth is hanging open like a loser. You know you look like such a big fucking chump right now. 

His dick is still in this guy’s mouth, and this curly fuck is still going to town on him. Captor just shrugs his shoulders, almost as if to say, “It happens.” 

You slam the door shut on them.

You’re so pissed that this happened to you. You’re mortified, your skin is blotchy with embarrassment, and you would never admit it to anyone, but you’re a little turned on. Your mind wont stop replaying you the sound of Captor’s shallow breaths, or the image of his hand wrapped up in dark curls that kind of look like yours... 

After sitting on the floor outside your room for a solid 10 minutes, you hear the door creak open to reveal the cocksucker himself. You don’t recognize him; probably some slutty lowerclassman. The smile he gives you is downright insulting, the little shit looks so pleased with himself. You scoff at him, and he floats away. 

He leaves the door open behind him. 

You don’t want to go inside. You want to sleep in the fucking hallway for the rest of the year. You want to scurry back to the shithole town where you were born and unbirth yourself so that you won’t have to go and live with hotshot senior, Sollux Captor, after getting 1/3 of an erection from him the first time you were within 10 feet of each other. 

You get it over with and march inside. The senior is sitting in the same plush computer chair that he was in 10 minutes ago, but now he’s swiveled around with his back to you. He’s already deep inside of some RPG on his decked out PC, both of which he probably designed himself. 

You clear your throat and cross your arms, reverting back to plan A: intimidation. Captor ignores you, killing a swarm of sworded troglodytes one by one. You clear your throat again.

You watch him decimate the entire group of enemies and collect every ounce of loot dropped before he presses the pause button and turns around in that damned padded gaming chair that you bet he fucking lives in. You scowl, furrow your eyebrows, and keep your arms firmly crossed. He meets your eyes. 

For a second, you lose all of the cool you had summoned around yourself. This guy has something about him. Not only is he some fabled tech God, he has this “I’ve never given a shit about one thing ever” vibe that makes you flush when he deigns to spare a glance in your direction. You scowl in an effort to make up for the composure you let slip under his gaze. 

It pisses you off that someone would dare affect you without getting your explicit permission beforehand. You try to look away from him and maintain your dignity, but you just fucking  _ can’t _ . Your eyes refuse to stop looking, acting independently from your brain. 

You’d never really had a reason to interact with him before, and you’d never been this close to him. His hair is pale blonde and extremely messy, sticking up in every direction. He’s wearing these shitty, greasy jeans and an absolutely plain yellow t-shirt. His eyes are almost too bright to look at without sunglasses, though you keep trying to anyway. 

The most surprising thing you realize about him how  _ thick  _ he is. And you’re not talking four hours a day at the gym lifting weights thick. You’re thinking something more along the lines of takeout, leftovers, and prepackaged goods while coding until 4 in the morning thick.

It’s like his mass is acting as some kind of black hole, sucking your attention right into its dense center; his stomach. You can’t decide whether you would describe him as fat or not. His weight is pretty evenly proportioned all over his body, making him have a very  _ large _ presence overall. But his stomach is rounded out somewhat, pressed upward from his slumped position he holds in his computer chair, hinting at a proclivity for overindulgence. 

You take all this in and try not to remember what his cock looks like. 

“Hey,” he says, breaking you out of your trance. His voice is deep and gravelly. He’s kind of waving his hand in the air as if he needs to use it to grab your attention. “I’m Captor.”

“I know,” you blurt out curtly before thinking. You sound like a whiny breathy brat compared to him. “I mean, everyone knows you.” You realize too late that you probably seem like some miserable fanboy who’s jizzing his pants for the chance to room with his deity. 

“Oh, do they now?” Captor replies, chuckling low and shaking his head. You catch a glimpse of a smirk on his lips before it’s gone again. He puts his hands on his broad thighs and then he’s standing up and he’s a lot closer to you than you anticipated, and fuck, he’s  _ tall _ , too. Suddenly, you’re feeling self-conscious about your slender and sharp and of average height frame. You try to straighten out a little bit so you don’t feel so damn tiny. 

“And you are?” he prompts you. Oh, right, he doesn’t know who you are. 

“E-Eridan,” you garble out. Damn it, you told him your first name instead of your last. “Ampora,” you add, firmly. 

“Eridan,” he repeats your name, making a clear choice to use your first over your last. He looks you up and down, sizing you up in what feels like a very serious manner. You’re flustered, you’re a little pissy, and you know your eyebrows are raised as high as they will go onto your forehead. You stare into his eyes, trying to relay to him your recurring thought of  _ what the fuck is going on _ . Finally, his eyes settle back onto your own, and he fucking  _ laughs. _

He’s fucking laughing at you. Your first reaction is extreme and irrational anger. You feel your face turn red and your fingers ball up into tight little fists at your sides. 

Then he drops back down in his computer chair, turns away from you, and unpauses his game. Your jaw goes slack and your mouth slams open. You want to scream. You feel like you definitely might scream. 

That’s when you see him looking at you from a little mirror poised beside his monitor. If it’s possible for your face to become even more red, it does now. 

But he’s smiling. Not in a mocking way, or a snarky way, but with a look that says,  _ I’m kind of sorry for fucking with you but wasn’t it actually kind of hilarious? _

“You’re funny, man,” he says to you. He pauses. You want him to stop looking at you and also keep looking at you. “Call me Sollux.”

Then he puts his gaming headset on and he’s out.

**Author's Note:**

> I have like 3 different routes I want to take this and I DON'T know which one to choose. Please leave kudos/comments if you're interested in reading more!!!


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